


Five Worlds That Could Have Used a Veronica and Logan

by Louzeyre



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher, Veronica Mars (Movie 2014), Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1940s, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:47:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25029505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Louzeyre/pseuds/Louzeyre
Summary: Because most Universes could stand to have a little bit more LoVe.
Relationships: Logan Echolls/Veronica Mars
Comments: 33
Kudos: 42





	1. Not AWOL

**Author's Note:**

> So, this has been simmering in the back of my brain for a while, and I decided to take the leap and write it in honor of Trope-a-Palooza. 
> 
> Once again it isn't as polished as I would have hoped. I may add to these universes later on, if I can find the time and there is an interest in any of them. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think. Thank you for reading. Stay safe.

They had nearly reached Howard’s plane when a blonde even shorter than Steve had been before the serum stepped out from behind the wing and stepped in front of the door, blocking it.

Steve tensed. He didn’t want to hit another soldier, let alone woman but he wasn’t about to give up his one chance to save Bucky.

“And who are you, doll?” Howard asked.

“She’s O.S.S.” Peggy said with a sigh. “Agent Mars, isn’t it?”

The blonde smiled.

“It is, Agent Carter.” The blonde --- Agent Mars ---answered.

“Agent Mars,” Steve pleaded, “I don’t know what you think we’re doing…”

“I think Captain Rogers that you, Agent Carter and Mr. Stark are planning to go against the Colonels order, go AWOL and fly behind enemy lines in order to try and save your friend, Sergeant Barnes.”

“Well, that’s just preposterous.” Peggy said lightly. “It would be a suicide mission.”

“Not to mention career suicide.” Agent Mars added. “Unless, of course you were to have gotten orders from someone outside of the normal chain of command. To say, do some surveillance as a favor to the OSS. And if you happened to find the rest of the 107th I think an extraction might well be reasonable too.”

Steve felt some of the tension leave his body, but Peggy was still staring at Agent Mars suspiciously.

“And why, exactly, would the OSS be willing to make such an arrangement?” She asked.

“We’ve had other pilots doing reconnaissance in the area for us. One of them was shot down a few days ago. If he survived, he would most like have been taken back to the same base as your friend.”

“So, the only reason you care about the 107th is because you want us to collect your guy.” Steve said, less than impressed.

“Excuse me if I’m wrong but the reason you’re mounting this rescue mission is because the 107th includes your best friend.” Agent Mars Countered. Then she reached up and pulled a locket out from under uniform and opened it.

Inside were two photos. One was of a teenage girl with light hair --- Agent Mars' kid sister maybe? The other was of a dark-haired man in uniform.

“His name is Lieutenant Logan Echolls.” She said, tapping the side of the locket with the man’s photo. “He’s been one of my best friends since I was twelve.”

She snapped the locket shut and looked straight up into Steve’s eyes,

“If there is any chance this can work; I’ll help you take it.” Her voice broke slightly. “Just please, bring him home.”


	2. Curse Correct

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments (and kudoes). I know this chapter is very short. Its really just a glance into a world I hope to expand on later. 
> 
> With that in mind I am a little worried that either Harry or Logan were acting a bit out of character here and I would like any feedback you can give me. Thank you.

My name is Harry Dresden. You can find me in the yellow pages, under Wizard.

And no, I don’t mean “Wizards”. I’m the only one there.

The people that show up as walk-ins at my office have a tendency to come in two distinct flavors: smart and desperate. I couldn’t quite tell which category the kid sitting across the desk from me fell into.

He was about a head shorter than me at nearly six feet tall, with baby fat still on his cheeks and the lanky, leanly muscled build of someone, who wasn’t quite old enough to fully fill out, but was willing to spend a lot of his time at the gym trying anyway.

My initial impression was that he was probably in his late teens, but his eyes were older. Not supernatural being hiding inside a kid kind of old or anything, but they had the sort of world weariness that no teenager should have.

I had a feeling if we fell into a soul gaze, I might see some things I wish I hadn’t.

“Nice office.” He said, finally. “Very minimalist meets shabby-chic. I particularly like the slightly wilted plant in the corner. Did you get the idea from Noir Design monthly?”

So, he was a quipper too. I better watch out or I might start to like him.

“Hard-boiled quarterly. But I had to order the broken lamp special.” I told him. “Now, what can I do for you?”

Logan seemed to pause at that, as if trying to figure out exactly what he could tell me.

“Michael said you’re the real deal.”

The mention of Michael made my stomach drop slightly. There were probably thousands of Michaels in Chicago alone, but I had a feeling he could only be talking about one.

“Michael Carpenter?” The kid nodded.

Michael was the best man I’d ever known, and for some reason he thought of me as a friend. He also was a Knight of the Cross. One of only three people on the face of the earth who wielded an honest-to-Goodness holy sword.

I hadn’t seen him since I had started sharing brain space with one of the monsters those swords were created to fight. I didn’t really want to know, but I also couldn’t not help someone Michael of all people apparently vouched for.

“If you know Michael, then you know that if he says it, it’s true.”

“I need some sort of protection spell. Not for me, but for my friend. I need to know she’s safe.” He let out a sigh then. “And I need another one for my cousin.”

“I can do that. First I need to know a little bit more about what you think they need protecting from.” He rolled his eyes at that.

“I’m pretty sure Veronica needs all the protection you could throw at her. As for my cousin.” He grimaced slightly. “She mostly needs protecting from herself.”


	3. The World Attic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is less of a direct cross-over than the previous chapters. Its more of a fusion between VM, Warehouse 13 and The Librarians.   
> It is, again, something of a proof on concept, to see how well this world works. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think. Good or bad. 
> 
> Thank you.

“I’m sorry. Could you repeat that. I think I must have hallucinated for second.” Veronica said carefully studying the man who claimed he was her new boss.

The man let out an exasperated sigh. As if it was her hundredth request for clarification rather than her first.

“Alright. Once again. This is the Attic. Magic is real. Magic, plus an object plus a strong emotion, personality or event can create an artifact imbued with magical properties. Your job, as long as you’re assigned here, is to find these artifacts, neutralize them and bring them back to the Attic to be safely stored.” He made a ta-da motion.

“Oh, I get it.” Veronica said finally, “This is some sort of hazing ritual. ‘See what the gullible newbies will believe, then make fun of them.’ Like telling freshman at a high school there’s a pool on the roof.”

Boss-man let out a growl.

“No. Special Agent Mars.” He snarled. “It is not a prank. It’s your job. For as long as you and Lieutenant Echolls are assigned here, you will find artifacts, neutralize artifact and store artifact.” He looked down then and said more to the floor than to her. “And possible deal with a few other magic and magical creature related crisis.”

He looked back up then and made another expansive gesture.

“What is so difficult about that to understand.”

“I’m pretty sure we’re both still stuck on the whole ‘magic is real’ thing.” Countered the man Veronica had mentally nick-named Captain America, even before she had had it confirmed that he was military.

Her new boss let out something closer to a roar then a growl this time and stomped out of the room.

He came back with a box.

Then he told them to put their hand in the box.

When they came to, both she and Lieutenant America stopped asking if this was a prank.


	4. Artifact Attic (II): Chiaroscutie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ended up going in a direction I wasn't expecting... But I hope you still like it. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who commented and kudoed.
> 
> Both Warehouse 13 and The Librarians have "noir" episodes where characters get sucked into a noir book and movie respectively. Warehouse 13's episode even includes Keith Mars himself, Enrico Colantoni, as a guest star.
> 
> Please let me know what you think. 
> 
> Thank you and stay safe.

_It was the sort of day that if the weather was cooperating would be dark and stormy, but all that was sliding down the windows was the too bright California sunshine._

_I’d already sent my gal Friday, Mac, home for the day._

_Her time was wasted hanging around the office anyway, with how slow it had been so far that day._

_Who was I kidding, it’d been a slow all month. And the month before that._

_I was sitting at my desk, trying to figure out how to make two and two equal five so I could have a chance at paying next month’s rent, when he walked in. Logan Echolls. Six feet of pure man poured into a bespoke suit. We’d been friends. We’d been enemies. We’d been lovers. But that was a long time ago. The last time I’d seen him was the day he came to say goodbye before leaving for the war._

_I’d heard he’d done well for himself. Got himself a chest full of medals. Must have kept him busy because I hadn’t gotten so much as a letter since he left._

_And now here he was walking into my office looking like captain goddam America with better tailoring._

_I wanted to tell him to go on and skedaddle. Stick his problem where the sun doesn’t shine. But like I said, it had been a slow month. And Logan was loaded._

“Please tell me you hear that.” Veronica asked, pointed upwards toward where the voice seemed to originate.

“The overly cliché, noir style internal monologue? Yeah. I hear it.”

Veronica let out a sigh of relief that this job had not, in fact, finally pushed her over the edge.

“So, I’m guessing this means that there _was_ an artifact in that used bookstore and now we’re, what, stuck inside it?” She said.

“Well, the last thing I remember before we literally became black and white was rifling through manuscript pages in the backroom where the previous victims were last seen before they disappeared, I’m going to go with yes.” Logan replied.

There was a slightly awkward pause after that, during which Veronica realized _what_ the voice had said.

“Just for the record _I_ do not think you are six-feet of pure man. Nor do I think you look anything like Captain America.”

There was another brief paused before Logan answered.

“Veronica, I’m hearing _my_ character’s internal dialogue as a voice over. Not yours.”

“Oh. Alright then. Good to know.”

Veronica stood there a second, wallowing in the continued awkwardness before it dawned on her that _none_ of this internal angst had been narrated.

“Is _your_ voice-over narrating now?” She finally asked.

There was another pause.

“No.”

“Any idea why?”

“Well, the voice over is our _character’s_ internal monologue?” Logan said slowly. “Maybe it only plays when we’re doing something that they would do to further the story.”

Veronica shook her head and stood up, walking around the desk to stand next to Logan.

“That makes no sense.”

“When does our job ever make sense?” He countered. /

“No, what I mean is, given the color palette and the age of books we were looking at, this is film noir, no neo-noir or some other modern play on the genre. If we really were following the story, _I_ shouldn’t be the detective and _you_ shouldn’t be the femme fatale.”

“What makes you think I’ll be _fatale_? I might be a very nice ex-boyfriend who just happens to be in a pickle.”

Veronica’s only reply was to roll her eyes.

“Fine.” Logan said. “Obviously there have been some modifications to the original story to match our skill-sets and personalities. But Attic’s protocol for a case of literal narrative transference would still be to play out the story to its conclusion. Once we get to the end of the book, we should be able to get back to the real world.”

“The Attic has protocol for being sucked into a book?”

“or TV show, or Movie.” Logan said matter-of-factly. “It’s in the manual.”

Veronica snorted.

“And. here I thought you only memorized random quotes.” She then added more seriously, “You do realize things tend not to end well for the characters in a film noir, Logan.”

“Don’t tell me you go along with that b.s.”

Veronica crossed her arms and glared at Logan.

“What is that supposed to mean.”

“Well, aside from the fact that what exactly qualifies as “noir” tends to be incredible subjective since the term was only retroactively applied years after most of the “classic noirs” were produced, there are plenty of classic Noirs that have, if not exactly a happy ending, at least a bittersweet one. In _Rebecca_ the main couple ended up alive and together.” He said, counting down on his fingers. “Sam Spade has Brigid O'Shaughnessy arrested but then tells her he’ll wait for her to get out of prison,”

“But only if she doesn’t hang.” Veronica pointed out.

“Fine. Point to you. But, In _In This Gun for Hire_ , the hit-man protagonist might die but both Ellen Graham and her actual detective boyfriend live _and_ get the confession they need. In _Casablanca_ Ilsa and Rick may not end up together but they both survive, and in the film version they are set on a path to do a lot of good in the world after their encounter. Bella in _Gaslight_ get revenge on the abusive husband _and_ gets him arrested for murder. Laura survives _Laura_ as does the detective main character.”

“I’m pretty sure not all of those are noir.”

“Again, it's _subjective_ ,” He reminds her, “Nick and Nora Charles…”

“Okay, _The Thin Man_ is not Noir.”

“It’s written by Dashiell freaking Hammett.” Logan responded.

“How do you know all this, anyway. I thought I was the one who had a thing for Film Noir and hard-boiled detectives.”

“I used to watch old movies with my mom.” He told her, quietly. That led to another awkward pause.

“Fine.” She finally told him. “But if one of us does end up dead because you insisted on going by the book, I’m going to find a way to resurrect _you_ to explain it to the boss.”

“I would expect nothing less.” He told her.

Veronica rolled her eyes again.

“So according to this protocol, what, are we supposed to do? Randomly shout out words until we land on the correct dialogue?”

Logan thought about it a second.

“I don’t think so. If the book is willing to gender flip the detective to make the story go more smoothly, changing the phrasing of a few words seems small potatoes in comparison. I would guess we just have to get close enough to what the dialogue is supposed to be to move the story along and hit the major plot points.”

“In that case, as the _homme fatale_ I would imagine your next line would be something along the lines of asking for help.” she told him.

“Okay.” Logan smirked slightly, “Veronica, I need your help.”

They both paused for a moment hoping the voice-overs would start again, but all Veronica could hear was her own, normal non-noir infused thoughts.

“Well, that” She started. Logan held up one if his fingers in the universal gesture to wait a minute and tilted his head as if listening to something.

Finally, after what felt like way too long and at least one eye roll by Logan, the voice had apparently stopped and he looked back up at Veronica.

“Okay. I think I know what we need to do next.”


	5. Not AWOL (II)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is far shorter and less polished than originally planned, but this week has been really busy and I wanted to write at least one thing for what is most likely History AU's last trope-a-palooza day. 
> 
> I hope you still enjoy it. I do plan to add more later. Sorry for how little Logan there is in this particular chapter. I think he makes up for quantity with the quality of his moxie.
> 
> Please let me know what you think.

If he’s honest, Steve half expects the O.S.S. Agent to strapped on a parachute and jumped out with him.

Peggy, though, reminds her that her half of their agreement is to keep them all out of hot water with Colonel Phillips, and she can’t do that if she’s traipsing around (or lying dead) in a forest in Austria.

Steve feels more than a bit guilty to imply that he wouldn’t save her Lieutenant if she doesn’t hold up her end of the bargain, but it's probably for the best, since he ends up landing miles away from base.

For all the fuss made about it, actually getting into the Hydra base turns out to be absurdly easy.

Just a few leaps, a knock on the door and slamming the door on the oddly trusting guard and he’s inside.

A few dodges and a few punches to another guard and he’s letting out the prisoners.

As each of the cells are opened Steve scans the crowd and his stomach sinks.

“Is there anybody else? I’m looking for a Sergeant James Barnes?” He says, then reminds himself, “And… a Lieutenant Echolls?”

The heads shake and his stomach sinks further.

“There’s an isolation ward in the factory, but no one’s ever come back from it.” One of the British prisoners tells him and Steve decides without hesitation he’s going.

Steve gives off directions like he knows what he’s doing, throws off a quip and heads back out to factory, leaving it to the hundred plus men with a grudge he’s just let loose to clear the way.

They do it well.

With a few more punches, and a few more hits of his shield he makes it across the floor and reaches the only area he can see where more prisons might be hidden away.

At the corridor he sees an outline of a man who’s not wearing a uniform. He should chase him. He’s sure to be, if not the boss then someone important if he’s allowed to wear something resembling real clothes. But just as he’s about to follow, he hears something.

Singing.

Well, singing might be a bit too generous given how off key it is, but someone is making noise that, if he listens hard enough, sounds almost like Gilbert and Sullivan.

None of the men he’s seen so far have said more than a word or two let alone a verse of the Modern Major-General song, however poorly it's sung.

It's not Bucky, but he might lead him to Bucky. And Steve can’t just leave him behind.

When he follows the voice, though, he finds a familiar figure strapped to a table. He’s not singing. He’s barely mumbling.

Steve gets him up and, on his feet, but he’s all but dragging him along.

Steve knows he has to make a choice. Bucky’s in bad shape. There’s a part of him that wants to get him out of here as soon as as possible. But that means leaving the guy who’s warbling led him to him.

He follows the singing, but it’s a closer thing than he likes to think about.

There at the end of the room, he finds a door. When he kicks it down, inside is the very man from Agent Mars’ locket. He’s bloody and dirty but apparently chipper enough to have garbled his way to the last verse.

He looks up at Steve with glassy eyes and blinks repeatedly, like he thinks he’s a mirage.

“You’re Captain American.” He says finally, then lets out a slightly hysterical laugh, “So I am hallucinating.”

Agent Mars had given Steve a pearl handled pistol before he left. Too small to do any damage really, but she had insisted, saying it would prove to her Lieutenant that he was a friend. At the time he felt like pointing out he was wearing a flag on his back, but now he’s glad.

He unholsters it from his ankle, and, carefully, shows it to the man on the floor.

Lieutenant Echolls blinks a few more times, then reaches over. Steve lets him pick up the thing and examine it.

“Veronica?” He asks, his eyes now focused on the small firearm in his hands.

“Sent me to get you out. Can you walk?”

When Echolls looks back up at Steve, his gaze is clear. He looks from Steve then to Bucky, then presses his hand against the wall and uses it to levy himself up, before giving a nod in Bucky’s direction.

“Better than him.”


	6. Not AWOL (III)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you do everyone who kudoed and commented. It really means so much to me.
> 
> As per the pole on discord, the next chapter in the fic is in the First Avenger-verse. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think. I would really welcome feedback --- good or bad. 
> 
> (PS --- the next Dresden-verse chapter is in the work. Soon. Hopefully)

Peggy didn’t exactly drag her feet as she brought the last of the surveillance photos to Colonel Philips.

Nothing so unprofessional as that.

But she didn’t hurry either.

She knew what his response would be and she was in no rush to listen to it.

There was only so slow one could walk, however, _without_ dragging one's feet and eventually she found herself just outside the command tent. There wasn’t much by way of privacy in such a set up. She could hear him.

It seemed he hadn’t waited to receive the photographs to make his final decision.

“Senator Brandt, I regret to report that Captain Steven G. Rogers went missing behind enemy lines on the third. Aerial reconnaissance has proven unfruitful. As a result, I must declare Captain Rogers killed in action. Period.”

“He’s not dead.”

That would be the O.S.S. Agent.

Mars.

“Go get a cup of coffee, Corporal.” Philip told his assistant.

“Yes, sir.” The man said, eager, it seemed, to get out of the verbal cross-fire.

Peggy steps out the way so the corporal could pass, but stayed by what passed as a door--- hovered really --- rather than going in. Agent Mars, Peggy suspected, would appreciate being allowed to fight her own battles.

“I hope you can take comfort in that delusion, Agent Mars, because back here in the real world, America’s golden boy and a lot of other good men are dead because of you and your little mission. And this hits the fan I’m going to make sure that it falls squarely on your head.” Philips turned slightly so his voice was aimed straight towards her. “And don’t think I don’t know your role in this Agent Carter.

Caught, Peggy walked inside and stiffly handed Philips the photos.

“The last surveillance flight is back. No sign of activity.” She told him. “And, with respect, sir, I don’t regret my actions. And I don’t think Captain Rogers did either.”

Philips gave a little humph.

Before he was able to give her a proper dressing down, however, the base began to buzz with activity. Soldiers are running about, and talking excitedly --- all around the tent.

“What the hell’s going on out there?” Philips asks no one, before heading out into the rush. Peggy and Agent Mars both shared a look and one another, then followed the crowd. 

They find the reason for the excitement at the edge of the base. It’s a sight that knocks the wind out of her for a moment.

Steve.

Hundreds of other men, too she supposed, but if she’s truly honest she really is just focused on the one.

Beside her Peggy heard a sharp, short breath. Peggy took her eyes off Steve for a moment, and saw Agent Mars straining to see over the men, searching the lines of freed prisoners.

Peggy can tell the exact moment that the agent spotted her Lieutenant.

Steve gave Philips a salute. It seemed something of a useless gesture given the circumstances, but that, she supposed, is part of the fundamental contradiction that was Steve Rogers. The man who wished to fight for his country so badly, who thought it was so _right_ to do so, that he saw no issue with breaking that very country’s laws repeatedly in his attempts to do so.

Who firmly believed it is better to ask for forgiveness, rather than permission, but asked for that forgiveness with a salute and genuine respect?

“Some of these men need medical attention.” Steve told the Colonel.

He waited a moment as medics descended on the men, then looked the Philips squarely in the eye.

. “I’d like to surrender myself for disciplinary action.”

Philips, however, knew what side his bread is buttered on.

What had been, only minutes earlier, a division destroying disaster was now a public relations coup.

“That won’t be necessary.” Philips told Steve quickly. While Steve remained at attention, Peggy could see that he had relaxed, if only slightly.

“Yes, Sir.”

****

Peggy had no real expectations of seeing Agent Mars or Lieutenant Echolls again, once she and the others had returned to London’s S.S.R. Headquarters to regroup.

Rival agencies and all that.

She was therefore surprised, albeit pleasantly so, to spot the pair sitting in one of the booths at The Whip and the Fiddle the night Steve made his recruitment speech to the rest of his new team.

Even if it did rather ruin her dramatic exit.

“Agent Carter.” Agent Mars called out, beckoning her over.

“Agent Mars.” Peggy said with a nod and smile, “Lieutenant Echolls. Are you here at Captain Roger’s request?”

“We’re here to say thank you, actually.” Lieutenant Echolls told. “And goodbye. The Navy’s gotten sick of having other people play with her toy, apparently. I’m going to be transferred back to the pacific front the day after tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Peggy told them truthfully. “We certainly could have used a pilot with your skills on the team.”

Agent Mars let out a snort and placed her hand over Lieutenant Echolls.

“Before you go and make his head swell too much, let me remind you that we only met because he was shot down.”

“And still managed to land.” He told her, clearly finding amusement in the banter. Agent Mars gave him a questioning look. _“_ If you can walk away from a landing, it’s a good landing. If you use the airplane the next day, it’s an outstanding landing. --- Chuck Yager. _”_

“You didn’t walk away.” Agent Mars said, deadpan. “You were captured.”

“And then I walked away from being captured.” The Lieutenant argued, then turned toward Peggy with a smile “With a little help, of course.”. Agent Mars rolled her eyes.

“At any rate.” Echolls said “Believe me when I say, Agent Carter, I am very sorry about it too. I had _really_ hoped to work with you and Captain Rogers.”

Peggy nodded a thank you then turned to the Lieutenant’s companion.

“And what about you Agent Mars? Are you to continue as our O.S.S. liaison?”

Agent Mars shook her head. Peggy found she was disappointed. While she could not say she _enjoyed_ the short time they had worked together --- the _had_ spent a great deal of it waiting to discover if Steve’s rescue had been successful --- she had felt a certain comradery with her fellow Agent. 

“I’m being sent on another assignment.” Agent Mars told her. “But if I certainly hope we get a chance to work together again.” She turned and gave Lieutenant a mock glare. “Although, hopefully in slightly better circumstances.”

“One can only hope.” Peggy told them. Peggy's eyes strayed to where Lieutenant Echolls and Agent Mar’s hands sat on the table.

Agent Mars may have told Steve that she and Lieutenant Echolls were old friends --- but it was clear that that wasn’t entirely true. Whether Agent Mars had purposely dissembled to gain Steve’s sympathy or this was a new development she didn’t know, Peggy found she didn’t truly care.

If Lieutenant Echolls was to be sent across to the Pacific front, Agent Mars would not be going with him. They deserved to have these last few hours with each other. Alone.

“Well, I wish you both luck.” She told them. Then added, gently. “With everything.”

The next month Steve and his crack team took out a Hydra Base in France.

The month after that, the Howling Commandos as they were coming to be called invaded a base in Belgium. The month after that, it was Czechoslovakia.

And Peggy helped with strategy. She helped with planning. She damn well did most of the information gathering for the missions, over and above what Steve had already provided.

But it seemed that while the S.S.R. had no problem with having a woman work covert missions, they were far more reluctant to publicize that fact.

And anything involving Captain America was bound to be publicized.

So, despite having more training and more missions under the belts than most of the Howling Commandos. Despite being treated as part of the team while they were at headquarters, between missions. Despite being the reason several of those missions were able to successfully go forward, Peggy found herself moving markers on maps and watching briefings.

And then, one morning Peggy found Agent Mars in Colonel Philips’s office.

“Ahhh, Agent Carter.” Philips said. “Agent Mars here has some sort of mission that she insists only you can help her with. Now as much as we can use your help around here, “ Philips gestured around headquarters and for the first time Peggy suspected he knew --- and perhaps understood --- her recent frustration “And since, the last time I allowed Agent Mars to borrow one of my men it ended with four-hundred soldiers’ lives being saved. , I don’t see how I can’t really say no. Provided you agree to it, of course.”

“It might be a lark, I suppose.” Peggy told them. “When do we leave?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again. 
> 
> While I was watching the First Avenger again for this fic, I realized something: Even through we hear about Peggy going on missions with the Howling Commandos in Agent Carter, and we even see her doing so on Agents of Shield the only mission we see her go on with them in the movie itself is the last one. And that irritated me. So I decided to give Peggy a mission of her own.


End file.
